


Rose in a Field of Daisies

by lexeunmi



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexeunmi/pseuds/lexeunmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beautiful yet deadly. True to her nickname, Ivory Fire, Fawn Ivory appears to be frail but is far from a weakling. What happens when she volunteers for Prim instead of Katniss and Gale is reaped? What if Fawn is the Mockingjay, the symbol of revolution?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything related to the hunger games, only my original characters. I didn't try to keep it cannon but there are definitely some parts similar to the book/movie. Hope you enjoy!

Fire.

 

Explosions.

_“Daddy!”_

 

_“Daddy!”_

 

Agonizing cries.

 

Fawn Ivory wakes up with a loud gasp, her body bolting up as cold sweat trickles all over her pale skin. Vivid images of her father’s death run through her mind, haunting her, taunting her.

 

Fawn’s dad died in the mining accident in district 12 just like Katniss’ and Gale’s fathers. It’s how the three met and with the passing of the years they became close friends, finding that they all hunted, still hunt, in the woods for their respective families. Thinking about Katniss and Gale calms Fawn enough to catch her breath. Her raven hair is damp and matted from the sweat and all the tossing and turning she had done during her sleep. Her silver eyes fluttered shut as she hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them as she takes deep breaths, her heatbeat slowing down eventually.

 

Once she was calm, Fawn glanced out her small bedroom  window – the sun is starting to rise and a feeling of foreboding creeps up on the eighteen year old’s mind. Today is Reaping Day and also the last year that Fawn, Katniss and Gale can be reaped for the horrific Hunger Games.

 

Not feeling sleepy at all and not wanting to confront bad memories again, Fawn crawls off the small bed and with light, graceful steps, makes her way to the kitchen – she only lives with her mother, now, since she’s an only child. Fawn suspects that her mother didn’t want to subject another child to the possibility of being reaped for the games. Once she arrives at the kitchen, Fawn notices that her mother, Terra, is already up and cooking a small but substancial breakfast, with the small birds she caught the day before and a bit of bread – something to last through at least half the day without eating another meal.

 

“Good morning.” The also raiven haired woman turns around with a surprised expression, probably not expecting her daughter to be up so soon. “Nightmare.” Fawn answers the unspoken question and starts helping her mother with the cooking, a faint smile on the forty-year old woman’s lips.

 

“I prepared a nice dress for you to wear today. Since it’s your last year.” Her mother declares almost excitedly, her blue eyes slightly shimmering with the rising sun’s rays. Almost. Even if it is the last year, there’s always the dreadful probability that one might get reaped.

 

“Thank you, mom.” Fawn’s own lips tug in a gentle smile.

 

When breakfast is ready, both woman eat in a comfortable silence. Fawn and her mother have always had a good relationship – though she was more attached to her father. When all the food is gone (which didn’t take long, since there wasn’t a lot to eat), Fawn’s mother takes her to her own bedroom, where a beautiful navy blue, vintage-like dress lays neatly on the bed. Fawn recognizes it as one of her mother’s old dresses though it’s well taken cared of.

 

“It’s the dress I was wearing when I met your father.” Her mother murmurs. This was a rare moment – Fawn’s mother rarely talks about her father. There are days that she won’t even look at Fawn – she has her father’s eyes and her mother is afraid to break down if she stares at the bright pair. Fawn hesitates before whispering.

 

“Thanks, mom.” There’s a delicate smile on Fawn’s lips as she soothingly caresses her mother’s forearm. “If I...” She starts, voice suddenly becoming hoarse. Fawn clears her throat and continues. “If I get reaped and don’t make it... please don’t let my death destroy your life. I know you’re strong, mom.” She awkwardly adds – Fawn has never been good with words, something her and Katniss share, which helped their friendship to blossom. Both enjoy silences much more.

 

“Don’t say nonsense, young woman.” Her mother scolds promptly, though there’s no heat to it, only sadness and fear. “I know you can survive. You take after your mother, after all.” This elicits a soft chuckle from the eighteen year old.

 

“I’ll do my best if it comes to it.” Terra nods and makes to leave, a warm smile on her thin lips.

 

“Put on the dress and call me when you’re ready.” With that said, her mother leaves the room to clean the dishes from their breakfast.

 

Fawn heaves a deep sigh, silver eyes glancing at the lovely dress. Walking over to it, she quickly undresses from the old shirt she’s wearing and the worn-out pants, her usual sleeping attire, and puts on the dress, turning around to face a mirror that’s leaning against the wall. Fawn brushes her fingertips along the soft fabric, amazed at the quality of the simple piece of clothing. The hem of the dress has white lace sewn in intricate designs, reaching her mid-thigh and the collar is white lace as well. The sleeves are long and are made of a gorgeous blue lace. The raven haired girl wonders how her mother afforded to buy the dress or if she made it herself – either way, it looks like it cost quite a bit. At least by district twelve’s standards.

 

Without her noticing, ten minutes have already gone by and when she glances at the small clock on her mother’s bedside table, Fawn makes her way to the door to call her mother but the latter beats her to it, appearing on the bedroom – Terra lets out a quiet gasp. The eighteen year old blushes a soft hue of pink, feeling self-conscious.

 

“How... How do I look?”

 

“Wonderful. Oh, sweetie, you look gorgeous.” Her mother suddenly starts crying silently and Fawn rushes to her side, a worried expression etched on her delicate features.

 

“What’s wrong, mom?”

 

“Oh, honey – I’m so afraid you’ll get taken away from me... I don’t want my beautiful baby to be gone.” Terra weeps on Fawn’s shoulder. The latter bites her lip, trying to hold back her own tears as she squeezes her mom gently, though a single one manages to escape and slide down her smooth cheek.

 

“It’ll be okay, mom... Don’t worry.” She nibbles on her already red lip, even herself finding it hard to believe her own words. After a couple minutes, Terra composes herself, dabbing her cheeks and eyes with a soft piece of fabric. Fawn’s mother smiles ever so faintly and cups her daughter’s cheeks tenderly, caressing them with her calloused thumbs.

 

“My sweet rose... A rose in a field of daisies.” The raven haired girl smiles timidly at Terra’s words, her long eyelashes fluttering quickly. “Now, let me do your hair. Katniss and Gale must be arriving soon.” Fawn nods and sits on the edge of the bed, pushing all her swart, long ringlets to her back. Her mother promptly starts brushing her hair, untangling all the knots and smoothing down her natural waves and curls. Terra then works on an intrincate braid that resembles a fish tail, pushing it over Fawn’s shoulder.

 

When it’s ready, Fawn stands up and faces the mirror once more. It’s a different look from what she normally wears, having a preference for more comfortable clothes on a daily basis. She looks pretty. Like a rose in a field of daisies. Her daze is broken when both woman hear voices approaching the house, familiar voices that bring a smile to Fawn’s lips. Terra ushers her daughter to go open the door with a knowing smile and with a wide grin, something only reserved to her loved ones, the eighteen year old opens the door before her friends can even knock.

 

“Hey, Fawn. Happy hunger games.” Katniss mocks, imitating the snobby Capitolian accent, causing Gale to snort and Fawn to laugh quietly.

 

“And may the odds be ever in your favor, Katniss.” Fawn quips with an overly cheerful tone. The three friends laugh even though they are fearful of what might happen. “Hey, Gale.” Fawn’s rosy lips curl in a soft smile as the muscular boy wraps his arms around her lean figure in a gentle hug – both hers and Katniss’ body are lean – whereas the majority of the people in district twelve are too skinny – all thanks to their habit of hunting for food.

 

“Hey, midget.” Gale smiles mischievously and the raven haired girl pouts, huffing playfully.

 

“Five foot four is nowhere near midget size!” She declares in a mock indignant tone, eliciting a small, guttural chuckle from the taller male.

 

“Whatever tickles your fancy, Fawn.”

 

The eighteen year old rolls her eyes and glances at Katniss, the latter’s eyes fixated on the direction of the square. Fawn presses her lips together in a thin line. It’s almost noon and everyone knows what that means.

 

“Already?”

 

“Yeah... We should go.” Katniss says with a heavy sigh. With a curt nod, Fawn glances back at her mother and she sees the fleeting terror on the forty year old’s eyes but it disappears just as fast as she notices her daughter looking at her, a faint smile quickly replacing the frown that had been ocupying her lips.

 

They all leave the house, Fawn’s mother promptly locking the door before making their way to the district’s square – there, there are already lines of kids waiting for the peacekeepers to prick their finger as others stride to their respective age group. Terra hugs her daughter briefly though tightly and squeezes her shoulders with a reassuring smile before striding towards the rest of the adults that are scattered throughout the square. The three friends go to stand in line, waiting for their turn. Fawn glances around the square in a slight daze, her jaw clenching at the terrified look on the younger kids’ faces.

 

She spots Prim, Katniss’ sister and almost her own, among the twelve year old group, and the small girl notices her as well – she waves a bit with a nervous smile and Fawn does her best not to worry too much about the girl that holds a special place in her heart. Prim is the little sister she never had. Fawn waves back with a comforting smile, hoping it will appease the younger girl before continuing to gaze around the large square once again.

 

A peacekeeper nudges her as it is already her turn, slightly hurting her in the process. Fawn holds back a hiss and discreetly glares at the man, jaw clenching once more as her finger is pricked. Katniss and Gale glance at her with concern but she shakes her head with a soft smile and walks over to them. Gale soon separates himself from the two girls, going to the boy’s group as Katniss and Fawn make their way to the girl’s group, but not before casting a fleeting glance at them both.

 

Soon enough, the district’s escort, Effie Trinket, strides onto the small stage, her hair a soft pink color that matches her bizarre dress. Approaching the mic, Effie clears her throat when the small film about the Hunger Games, that they show every year, ends.

 

“Good morning! It’s that time of the year to select the very lucky tributes that will represent district twelve on the seventy fourth annual Hunger Games! And, as always, ladies first.” Fawn frowns at the word ‘lucky’, hearing Katniss silently scoff as well. With a dramatic movement of her hand, Effie draws out a slip from the glass ball. With elegant strides, the woman returns to the center of the stage and opens the slip with a seemingly excited smile.

 

“Primrose Everdeen!” The raven haired’s silver eyes widen as soon as the name leaves Effie’s lips, a loud gasp escaping from her own pair. Katniss and her exchange glances, reflecting each other’s dread and worry, and without a second thought, Fawn bolts out of her group, pushing people aside as little Prim is already fearfully making her way towards the stage. And with a loud, confident voice, Fawn shouts.

 

“I volunteer as tribute! I volunteer!” Fawn notices the look of pure surprise in Effie’s face as she rushes to Prim, the latter crying softly in dismay as she wraps her slender arms around Fawn, muttering ‘no, no, no’ repeatedly. Before they have time to even talk, they are separated by peacekeepers and Fawn is tugged by them towards the stage.

 

“Twelve’s very first volunteer!” Effie’s voice sounds in the background.

 

The eighteen year old glances at Katniss and then Gale, their eyes portraying their uneasiness. Fawn gulps loudly and tries to smile before taking a deep breath and prying herself away from the peacekeepers. “I can walk on my own.” She challenges with a blank stare before taking fearless, graceful steps up the stage. Fawn offers a tight smile to the pink haired woman and stands beside her.

 

“And what’s your name, dear?”

 

“Fawn Ivory.”

 

“I bet my hat you’re related to that girl.”

 

“No. Not at all. Though it’s almost as if she is related to me.” A bewildered look once again adorns Effie’s features, surely at the lack of family connection to the young girl, before the older woman clears her throat once more.

 

“Well, a round of applause for district twelve’s first volunteer, Fawn Ivory!” Effie announces with loud claps but she notices she’s the only one doing so and it quickly dies down. Instead, the people on the square all join their thumb and pinky from their right hand and kiss the other three digits before holding them up in a quiet gesture of support and respect. Fawn recognizes the district’s secret gesture, silently thanking the people from her district, her people, though her eyebrows are scrunched up in slight confusion, still quite in a haze from all that’s happening.

 

Her thoughts are running wild in her mind, clashing with each other, wreaking havoc as she inwardly panics but Fawn does her best to maintain her usual calm demeanor and serene features. However, it all comes crumbling down a few moments later, when Effie, now collected from the previous events, draws out the slip from the other glass ball.

 

“Gale Hawthorne!” Fawn’s silver eyes immediately search for the male, the pair as wide as saucers, a soft whimper escaping her rosy lips as her hands fly up to her mouth, covering it as she fights back the tears. She notices the look of relief on the other boys’ faces. Fawn spots Katniss as well – the girl’s face is scrunched up in horror and the eighteen year old knows that Katniss is at the verge of tears.

 

“No volunteers?” Effie pauses with an expectant look before pursing her lips and smiling sweetly as Gale starts making his way towards the stage with wary steps. “Well, come along then, sweetie. Come on.” Peacekeepers escort him to the stage as he keeps a grimace on his handsome face, stepping up the stage’s stairs once he gets there. Gale glances at Fawn and smiles sadly.

 

“Now, please shake hands, my dears.” Fawn tries to keep a calm demeanor as she steps closer to Gale, though it’s evident in her eyes the sorrow she feels. The raven haired girl holds out her hand but before she knows it, she’s being pulled to Gale’s muscular torso, his strong arms snaking around her lean figure in a tight hug. Effie gasps quietly in astonishment at the sudden gesture of affection and as the crowd starts to murmur loudly, peacekeepers pull them apart and usher them inside the Justice Building.

 

Fawn faintly hears Effie talking, as they step inside, “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!” before they’re led to separate rooms – Fawn only has time to cast a fleeting, scared glance at Gale but the boy smiles reassuringly and nods once before disappearing behind a corner.

 

Once Fawn is inside a small room, she inhales shakily, keeping her tears at bay but the dam breaks easily once her mother steps inside with tears in her eyes – both woman rush towards each other and Terra quickly embraces her daughter in a tight hug as the younger buries her face on her mother’s shoulder, crying quietly at her fate. Fawn is scared, anxious, sure of her death but her mother’s soothing caresses to her back calm her slightly even though she knows that Terra is terrified as well.

 

They pull away from the hug and rest each other’s forehead on one another’s – Terra whispers, cupping her daughter’s cheeks.

 

“Don’t show them weakness. Stay strong and survive like I know you can. Don’t give them what they want, Fawn.”

 

“I’ll do my best, mom.” She murmurs back as she stands straight, cleaning her cheeks with her fingers and putting on her best smile. “I’ll survive. For you, for Katniss and Prim, for twelve.” But she knows it’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie and that she’d never let Gale die instead of herself. Terra nods and glances at a peacekeeper as he announces her time is up and that there's more visitors.

 

“What you did was brave, dear. And I’m very proud of you.” With a last kiss to Fawn’s cheek and a faint smile, her mother reluctantly leaves and soon after she does, Katniss and Prim dash inside, their mother not far behind. The three girls promptly cling to each other, Prim sobbing loudly and muttering how unfair it all is. Katniss cries, something she rarely does, and Fawn can’t contain her tears, either. A couple minutes later, they break apart and their mother approaches with a thankful, yet regretful smile.

 

“Thank you, Fawn... I don’t know how to ever repay you for what you did.”

 

“I... The only thing I ask for is to please look after my mother. I don’t want her to live miserably.” Fawn nibbles on her lip, afraid that she’s asking too much – taking care of a mother who lost their daughter can be very stressful and taxing. But Katniss’ mom assures her that she’ll take good care of Terra, seeming to have awoken from her previous stupor-like life now that her daughter was saved from certain death. The raven haired girl quietly thanks her and turns to Prim as the small girl tugs on her arm.

 

“I want you to have this.” She says as she presses a golden mockingjay pin to her hand, closing Fawn’s digits around the beautiful piece. “As a token.” Fawn smiles softly and tenderly hugs Prim as her silver eyes flutter shut, inhaling deeply.

 

“Thank you, Prim.”Shegives the girl a gentle squeeze before pulling away.

 

“Fawn—” Katniss starts but she cuts herself off as her voice breaks and wavers with the jumble of emotions coursing through her mind. Fawn hugs her as Prim and their mother silently leave the room to give them space. “I don’t—what will I do without you? Or Gale?” Fawn grimaces at the mention of their friend and she sighs quietly, not knowing how to answer.

 

“You’ll live. You’ll move on and survive. Protect your family and mine. And Gale... I’ll do my best for him to survive, I promise.” The eighteen year old murmurs, pulling back to look at Katniss with a weak smile. “I promise.”

 

“But—I don’t want either of you to... to die.” She manages to choke out, her eyebrows furrowed and lower lip slightly quivering. Before either of them can say anything else, peacekeepers pull them apart, stating that Fawn has to leave – Katniss screams for her, screams for her to be careful and simply – for her. Both struggle and try to escape the peacekeepers’ grip but to no vail, tears streaming down their cheeks and the screams echoing throughout the building.

 

In no time, they’re leading her to the train that’ll take both her and Gale to the Capitol.

 

* * *

 

 

Once inside the train, she’s escorted to a room where she’ll be sleeping for the night before they arrive at the Capitol. With hesitant steps, she walks over to the bed and trails her fingertips along the blankets – they’re soft, a big contrast between her scratchy blankets at home and these ones. Fawn sits down – the mattress molds to her body, it’s soft and comfortable, it’s strange – she’s already used to her bed, the latter’s mattress being hard and squeaky. Fawn stays there, laying down for a couple hours, the train in motion, and she eventually falls asleep from the strain of today’s events. She ends up sleeping for the rest of the day and majority of the night, a dreamless sleep, something she hasn’t been able to do for a while, with how much exhaustion she was feeling.

 

When she wakes up, a clock on a small bedside table indicates that it’s currently six in the morning, the sun slowly rising up and illuminating the dark sky with bright rays of light. A small hope also rises in her heart. Fawn’s stomach rumbles with hunger and she decides to get off the bed and freshen up on the bathroom before exploring the train for food – and to find Gale. She was so tired the day before that the minute her head hit the pillow, she forgot about everything else.

 

Fawn glances at her reflection – her hair is wild, strands of hair sticking up in different directions from all the fight she put up against the peacekeepers as they pulled her and Katniss apart and the friction of the pillow. Her usual bright, expressive eyes only have a dull shine to them and her clothes are all crinkled but it will have to do – she doesn’t have anything to change into.

 

Fawn washes her face, refreshing herself with the cold water, and takes in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she leans her forehead on the mirror over the sink. The eighteen year old pulls herself together as best as she can and takes a towel from the rack near the sink, drying her face and delicate hands. When she walks back into the bedroom, she notices the avox standing on the corner of her room with his head held down. Fawn frowns and chews on her lower, plush lip, a habit she’s had ever since she was a small child. She wishes she could do something for them but she knows that if she tries anything, it could only make it worse for them.

 

Instead, she decides to leave the bedroom right away, her stomach once again complaining at the lack of food in it. After walking down a corridor, the first thing she encounters is, thankfully, a the dining car and, to her delight, Gale is already inside – Fawn quickly rushes towards him with a cry of his name as she once more realizes that one of them, or maybe even both, will not go back home.

 

“Gale!” She throws her arms around him, falling onto his lap as she buries her face on his neck, completely ignoring anything besides the taller male. “Oh, Gale—” She chokes out a sob as the boy wraps his arms around her waist, sighing heavily as his lips gently brush over Fawn’s temple.

 

“It’s alright, Fawn... I’ll make sure you’ll survive.” Her eyes widen and she pulls away, shaking her head frantically as a few tears slip down her pale cheeks.

 

“No, no—I can’t let you die—” Her speech, however, is interrupted when someone clears their throat – Fawn glances back and finally notices Haymitch Abernathy – recognizing him for his drunken behaviors on previous games – on the other side of the table, pouring himself what looks like tea, and Effie on a mahogany chair, a bit farther away from them. The raven haired girl promptly wipes her tears away and slides off Gale’s lap with a faint blush, embarrassed as she mournfully thinks to herself that not only are they sentenced to death but their mentor is a victor that resorts to drinking heavily on a daily basis. She inwardly cringes at the smell of alcohol coming from him.

 

“Oh, um—I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there.”

 

“Story of my life when it comes to women, ‘pparently.” The middle-aged man bitterly chuckles as he takes a moment to glance at her. He seems to grimace at her frail appearance and that annoys her – she’s no weakling. Didn’t he learn to never judge a book by its cover?

 

 Fawn takes a seat beside Gale with a frown, her slender arms crossed over her chest.

 

“I take it you two already know each other?” Gale and Fawn glance at each other before murmuring a quiet ‘yes’.

 

“... Great.” Haymitch mutters with a soft sigh and her brows knit up in confusion but then it hits her once more – one of them had to die – and a sudden tension hangs in the air.

 

“We were talking about surviving skills.” Gale decides to break the awkward silence that settled on the small room, a faint smile on his lips, as Fawn grabs an apple and slowly eats it, savoring the rich flavor. Fawn returns it with one of her own gentle ones and nods a bit, glancing at Haymitch expectantly. After a couple seconds of silence, she scowls.

 

“Well? Let’s hear it.”

 

“Sweetheart, you probably won’t last a day, so why bother?” He answers with a snort. Fawn sneers and curls her fingers on her dress as she tries to maintain her composure.

 

“Tell. Me.”

 

“Pass me the butter, please.” He ignores her nonchalantly and with that, she’s had enough – she slams her fist on the table, even surprising Gale, the latter’s hand resting comfortingly on her knee. “Tell me!”

 

“Hey, that’s mahogany! Careful!” Effie cries out from where she’s sitting, a frown marring her features. Haymitch looks at Fawn curiously, studying her and she straightens up, almost as if challenging him. Haymitch smirks.

 

“Well, glad to see you have some fight in you.” She huffs and Gale gently squeezes her knee, a worried look on his face. “You wanna know how you can survive in the arena? Get people to like you. Skills don’t mean shit if you don’t get any support from the Capitol people. You can have all the skills you want, but you can’t fight when you’re starving or thirsty.” He says sternly.

 

She’s stunned – for a drunken man that was quite eloquent – before his words sink in. She’d have to play nice for the kind of people she hated the most. How delightful, she thinks with yet another scowl. Her reverie is broken when they start hearing faint cheering and clapping – Gale and Fawn both glance out the window and get up from their seats, astonished at the amount of people that apparently are here just to take a closer look.

 

They wave with awkward smiles and the crowd cheers even louder, their screams almost deafening. For a moment, those screams remind her of her father’s cries, of the mine worker’s agony – and her smile falters.

 

_“Don’t show them weakness. Stay strong and survive like I know you can. Don’t give them what they want, Fawn.”_

 

Fawn takes a deep breath----

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                               inhale,

 

                                                                                                  exhale----

 

 and puts on the brightest smile she can muster, waving excitedly. Gale glances at her with a confused and curious gaze. She merely shrugs, smiles and waves.

 

Just smile and wave. _Smile and wave._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful yet deadly. True to her nickname, Ivory Fire, Fawn Ivory appears to be frail but is far from a weakling. What happens when she volunteers for Prim instead of Katniss and Gale is reaped? What if Fawn is the Mockingjay, the symbol of revolution?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything related to the hunger games, only my original characters. I didn't try to keep it cannon but there are definitely some parts similar to the book/movie. Hope you enjoy!

Fawn and Gale are led out of the train and into a car – on the way, Gale manages to make a few girls swoon and inside the vehicle, Fawn teases him, nudging his shoulder. “Didn’t know you could be such a Casanova, Gale.” The muscular boy lets out a hearty laugh, something she hasn’t heard in a while and it brings a smile to her rosy lips, brightening her silver eyes quite a bit.

 

“All men have a few secrets, midget.”

 

“Yeah, right.” The eighteen year old snorts, this little moment managing to take her mind off unpleasant thoughts – even if it is just for a few seconds, it’s more than worth it.

 

Soon enough, they arrive at the City Circle, where the Tribute Parade will be held until they reach the training center in chariots. Chariots, like the romans, the gladiators in ancient history that fought with honor, for honor. Fawn can only scoff at the thought. There’s no honor in this, she thinks.

 

Before they get to look around in bewilderment at the big, ostentatious buildings, they’re ushered into one of them and are thrust into the awaiting arms of their prep teams. A woman named Portia – that seems to be on her mid-twenties with puffed, curly and short blond hair, adorned with black lipstick and long, fake eyelashes – is put in charge as Gale’s stylist, whereas Fawn’s stylist is a humble looking man in his thirties with short black hair named Cinna, the only extravagance that he shows being the gold eyeliner that he uses.

 

Gale and Fawn are separated yet again and sent to different rooms – the boy looks absolutely terrified and Fawn laughs quietly at the miserable look on Gale’s face.

 

“Fawn Ivory, yes?” Cinna adresses her with a soft tone and she nods, surprised at the lack of pomposity. “Well, I’m very honored to have such a beautiful canvas to work on.” The raven haired girl’s usually pale cheeks are now bright red – Fawn isn’t used to people complimenting her and can’t help but to blush whenever someone does so.

 

“Oh, um... Thank you.” The man offers a kind smile and leads her inside a small changing room where she’s instructed to change into a blue, scratchy gown. Fawn glances at it in distaste but quickly changes from the navy-blue dress to the gown.

 

Cinna then introduces her to the rest of her prep team, consisting of two women and a man, much more bizarre looking that the head stylist – Venia, Octavia and Flavius. They immediately start working on her, removing all her body-hair first. She bites her lower lip to endure the pain, though her muscles don’t even twitch with each hair that’s ripped away. Venia compliments her on her ability to not complain and Fawn offers an awkward smile, not really knowing how to answer. Next, they put her in a bubbling bath – she sighs in delight at the warm water. Never in her life has she had such a wonderful time bathing.

 

When she’s done and dry, Cinna promptly hands her a beautiful black, leather-like dress – it’s long sleeved and it will easily reach her ankles. Its fabric is soft and when Venia helps her put it on, it hugs her body perfectly, truly favoring her lean figure. The stylist then adds a long, coal colored cape that hangs over her shoulders with spike-like ends before ushering her to a chair so that her makeup and hair can be done.

 

Flavius snips her hair here and there and for a few moments, she’s scared of what she might end up looking like – noticing her nervousness, Flavius smiles kindly.

 

“Oh, darling, you don’t have to worry. You’re in good hands.” Flavius assures her before he continues his work, now curling her hair as Octavia applies makeup on her milky skin. Fawn isn’t really convinced.

 

“You’re going to look fabulous, sweetie!” Octavia exclaims excitedly, a wide smile on her lips. Fawn can only smile nervously.

 

Almost half an hour later, the prep team announces that they’re done. Cinna kneels down in front of her and helps her slip into a pair of low-heeled black shoes before taking her hand and leading her to a big mirror that’s attached to one of the walls.

 

Fawn stares, astonished at the beautiful, almost intimidating woman that’s reflected on the mirror – _is that really me?_ , she wonders. Her eyes are surrounded by black eyeshadow, with a few stones that look like diamonds that winged out from the corner of her eyes. Her plush lips have a faint gloss applied on them, surely to not take much attention from her eyes that seem to shine even brighter, her silver irises even more noticeable now.

 

Fawn doesn’t have any words to describe the dress – it fits her splendidly and she wonders how Cinna managed to do such a thing without even knowing her. Her swart hair is loose in long, perfect curls that cascade down her back and over her shoulders. On the top of her head there’s a headpiece – somewhat like a black tiara, except its structure is made of horizontal lines.

 

“Watch this.” Cinna takes a piece of cloth from his pocket that looks like it’s of the same fabric as her dress and a small switch. He presses the button and brushes the device over the cloth – it immediately starts burning, but instead of normal red, orange and yellow fire, it’s white with tiny specks of blue. Fawn squeaks and slaps it out of Cinna’s hand, afraid that it’ll burn him. The prep team starts chuckling, though, and she glances at them in confusion.

 

“It’s not real fire, sweetie. It’s synthetic.” Cinna explains – Fawn blushes furiously and groans inwardly. It’s not really her fault – there’s no such thing as synthetic fire in her district. “When your chariot starts moving, press the button and just touch your dress with the device. Gale has an identical switch with him, too. It’s something Portia and I have been working on for a while.” The man says softly, a gentle smile on his lips.

 

“But how would you know that—”

 

“I requested to be your district’s stylist.” Cinna says without any kind of hesitation.

 

Before she could ask why, someone warns the prep team that the chariot rides will begin in fifteen minutes. Flavius shrieks, eliciting a wince from Fawn at the high-pitched sound, and they quickly guide her to the place where the chariots are – she wonders if Gale is already there.

 

It will be the first time she’ll be seeing the other tributes – she missed the recap of all the other reapings and Fawn makes it a point to watch them later, to study the other tributes.

 

Her chariot is the last one, obviously – it’s decorated with white roses and it’s entirely black, as well as the horses. Fawn starts noticing the pattern, the inspiration on their district. To her dismay, nor Gale nor Haymitch are there yet, therefore leaving her there by herself, and she sighs, caressing the horse’s mane and neck with gentle brushes of her hand. From the corner of her eyes, she spots two boys and girls talking with each other – the boys are big and muscular and the girls are very beautiful. Just from the ostentatious clothing they’re wearing, she can tell they are probably from the career districts one and two.

 

_Already making alliances?_ , Fawn thinks – they always do, though. It’s certainly nothing new. Her reverie is broken when they glance at her—glare, to be more correct – she’s about to look away when Fawn realizes that she can’t show fear. So, instead of avoiding their gazes, she glares right back, trying to look as intimidating as possible. One of the girls, a blonde one, huffs and they all avert their gaze – a small victory that brings an instant smirk to her lips.

 

“Quite brave what you did on Reaping Day. Taking that girl’s place, I mean.” An unknown voice sounds from behind her. Fawn’s eyebrows furrow and she turns around – she’s faced with one of the most beautiful men she’s ever seen. His eyes are the first thing she notices – a rich, vibrant sea-green color that seems to invite you to come closer –, they hold a mischievous glint to them that makes her slightly wary of the male. His hair is as golden as the sun with a few darker strands here and there – his skin is sun-kissed, even if the only expanse of skin that he’s showing are his arms, though his muscles can be seen what with the tight fabric of his shirt. The man is tall and well-built with Adonis-like features. His face looks familiar but Fawn can’t place her finger on it.

 

For a few moments, she simply stands there, bewildered but then she remembers that he addressed her and her stupor is broken. A faint smirk is noticeable on his full lips.

 

“Um—I suppose so. She’s... like family, I couldn’t let her be sentenced to death.”

 

“And instead, you sentence yourself to death?” This annoys her greatly. Fawn crosses her slender arms over her chest and narrows her eyes.

 

“I’m not some frail, little thing, thank you very much. I can take care of myself.” Fawn scowls, already regretting starting a conversation with this man. The latter holds his hands up in mock-surrender, a sheepish smile adorning his lips.

 

“Didn’t mean to offend.” He pauses before extending his hand. “Fawn Ivory, right?” The raiven haired girl eyes him suspiciously before nodding and hesitantly grasping his hand.

 

“Yeah—” Fawn gasps when the man brings her hand up to his lips, ever so gently brushing the soft pair over her knuckles as his eyes never leave her own – she feels allured by that lively pair.

 

“Finnick Odair! What the hell do you think you’re doing to my tribute?” Fawn hears Haymitch shout. The eighteen year old pries her hand away from Finnick, now recognizing who he is – the Capitol’s toy. She’s heard rumors about him once, a few years ago – how President Snow forced him to sell his body. But then again, they were just gossips – she pitied him all the same, rumors or not.

 

“Fawn!” Gale’s voice sounds – she steps from behind Finnick, who had turned around and effectively blocked her line of sight, and spots Haymitch and her childhood friend striding their way. Haymitch’s features are neutral but Gale seems outright angry. Why that is so is what she wonders.

 

“Ga—” Fawn’s cut off when the muscular boy envelops her in a tight hug, promptly glaring at district four’s mentor and victor. Now that she thinks about it, why would he approach her so early – the trainings haven’t even started. And either way, shouldn’t his tributes be the ones to talk to her?

 

“Ah, just congratulating her on her bravery, Abernathy.” Said mentor narrows his eyes at him before glancing at Fawn in confirmation. The girl simply shrugs, now that Gale finally released her from the bear-like embrace – perhaps the boy noticed that Finnick wasn’t a threat.

 

“Shouldn’t you be encouraging your own tributes?” Fawn mumbles, more to herself than anyone else, but somehow Finnick manages to hear what she says and the older male smirks.

 

“Feisty ones you’ve got this year, huh, Haymitch?” The district four victor smiles charmingly, showing off his perfect row of upper teeth. Haymitch actually smiles, a real, sans drunken state smile, almost as if he’s proud of the two tributes.

 

“Yeah, they are.” Their conversation is cut short, though, when a Capitol assistant warns them that the parade is about to start and that the tributes should all step into the chariots.

 

“Well, I’ll be taking my leave, then. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ivory.” Finnick smiles widely – there’s a hollow feeling to it, though – and dramatically bows. His playfulness doesn’t surprise the eighteen year old but she has to surpress a laugh at his antics.

 

“I still have to figure out if the feeling is reciprocated or not.” Fawn teases with a small grin and this time Finnick smiles more genuinely before walking away without another word. Gale glances at her with a certain emotion in his eyes that she’s not able to identify, so she decides to shrug it off and step up into the chariot, her tribute partner quickly doing the same.

 

Now that she has time to really look at him, Fawn has to admit that he looks rather... handsome. Has he always been this good-looking? Gale’s sharp features are even more accentuated with the light makeup the prep team applied and the black, leather piece he is wearing fits him perfectly, complimenting his muscular torso, thighs and arms.

 

Gale catches her looking and a teasing smile appears on his lips. He nudges Fawn’s arm and she looks up at him with a start, her cheeks flushing with a soft pink before she quickly averts his gaze, clearing her throat. Gale chuckles softly and shakes his head.

 

Soon enough, their chariots start moving and begin the ride along the City Circle – and as the chariots pick up their pace a bit, so does her heart, the latter beating loudly against her ribcage, almost as loud as the crowd is cheering. Fawn suddenly remembers about the device Cinna gave her and she taps Gale’s arm, showing him the small piece of technology – the boy nods. Both tributes press the button and brush the device over the fabric of their clothes.

 

It immediately ignites the synthetic fire, the white and blue fluttering behind with the wind – the crowd of Capitol citizens goes wild, cheering, clapping and whistling loudly, to the point that a few other tributes even look back at them. Fawn glances at Gale and his fire is different from hers – instead of white, blue is the most prevalent color and the specks are white. It’s beautiful, ethereal almost. She then looks at one of the panels that are showing close-ups of the two and notices that even her headpiece is on fire, and for a moment she worries that her hair will burn but the worry vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. She’s speechless.

 

They’re halfway through the ride and the raven haired girl peeks at the crowd once more – they’re still cheering loudly for them, completely amazed and bewildered at their strong appearance.

 

_“You wanna know how you can survive in the arena? Get people to like you.”_

 

Without thinking twice, Fawn holds Gale’s hand and smiles charmingly at the Capitol citizens. Gale stares at her in confusion though he doesn’t really seem to mind – it’s not the first time they’ve held hands.

 

“Let’s hold them up. They’ll like it.” Fawn whispers and grins. Gale catches on to what she’s getting at and nods, smiling faintly. Again that unfamiliar emotion in his eyes.

 

The two tributes hold their hands up to show that they’re linked, that they have a strong bond that not even the Hunger Games can break. Fawn almost winces with the shrieks and screams of the crowd – they’re so loud that she wonders if the people in district one can hear it.

 

The chariots start slowing down the closer they get to the round square, lining up beneath the balcony where President Snow stands, getting himself ready to begin his speech. Fawn holds back a sneer at the sight of the old man. The wind is blowing mildly and wafts a strange, almost sickening smell – like iron and rotten flowers. The eighteen year old scrunches her nose up discreetly and steals a glance at the eldery man – there’s a white rose on his jacket. Fawn wonders what’s the source of that smell that was doubtlessly blood. Gale used to hurt himself a lot when they were younger, getting scratches from falling down or tripping over while hunting, and Fawn would always take care of his wounds.

 

Snow quietly clears his throat before smiling – a sickly sweet, fake smile.

 

“Welcome. Welcome, tributes! We salute your courage and your sacrifice and wish you Happy Hunger Games!” He begins. Fawn scowls, discreetly staring at the President darkly. Gale gently squeezes her hand, glancing at her with a questioning gaze and she shakes her head briefly, a faint smile adorning her rosy lips. With a fleeting look, she notices President Snow curiously peering at her. Fawn decides to stare at the Capitolians beside him.

 

“May the odds be ever in your favor. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever!” The Capitolians roar, applauding loudly and Fawn smiles charmingly at the cameras, though it seems forced. A few seconds later, the chariots start moving again, taking them into the tower connected to the training center where they’ll be staying for the next three days of training.

 

Fawn inhales deeply once she’s away from the public eye. Gale helps her step down from the chariot and she smiles thankfully at him.

 

“That was amazing! Great work, Fawn. And you too, Gale.” Cinna exclaims as both prep teams rush over to them, Haymitch and Effie not too far behind.

 

“Yes, yes, marvelous, my dears.” Effie adds with a proud smile on her lips once they’re all close to each other. The pink haired woman gently squeezes Fawn’s arm in an affectionate gesture.

 

“Thank you.” They awkwardly say, glancing at each other with sheepish smiles – even if she feels as if her death is just around the corner, she’ll do her best to enjoy Cinna’s glamorous designs. She is just a girl, after all. Fawn hears a snort from behind her and the eighteen year old slowly turns around, a neutral expression on her face – it seems as though one of the career districts’ tributes is the source of that noise, a smirk plastered on his lips. He doesn’t seem to pose much of a threat – he appears to be quite a dimwit. In contrast, a muscular, tall and blonde boy beside him has a menacing look on his eyes and he seems to be studying her.

 

“Let’s call it a day, shall we? You kids can do whatever the hell you want for the rest of the day.” Haymitch voice sounds and the raven haired girl faces the group once more. The man is looking at the career tribute as well before turning his gaze at Fawn with a faint smile. The girl can’t help but to smile right back. Fawn nods and says goodbye, for now, to the prep team, Gale quickly doing the same, before both young tributes trail behind Haymitch and Effie.

 

They take an elevator to the twelveth floor – the ride up is made in silence, though it’s a comfortable one. Effie shows them to their penthouse, Haymitch slowly trailing behind. As Gale and Effie engage in a conversation about schedules, Fawn scoots closer to their mentor.

 

“Would you bet on us?” The question seems to catch the victor on guard, his eyes blinking rapidly.

 

“What—How do you—”

 

“I’m eighteen, Haymitch. Not eight.” She heaves a soft chuckle, a teasing glint on her silver eyes. The glint disappears right after, though, as she becomes serious once again. “So, would you? I suspect you don’t but—you get what I mean.” Haymitch looks thoughtful for a few moments and Fawn notices that Gale and Effie are both listening to them, the sound of their chatter becoming softer, quieter. The mentor smirks slightly.

 

“I’d have to wait for the trainings to know that but—I think I would. You two seem like you’re tough kids.” The answer pleases Fawn, rekindling that tiny hope she has in her heart. “Though you are kind of a midget, you don’t strike me as weak.” The eighteen year old’s eyes widen and Gale lets out a loud laugh, Effie trying to fight back a chuckle – Haymitch smirks widely.

 

“And here I was starting to like you, Haymitch.” She shakes her head with a mock-disappointed tone, sighing quietly. The mentor chuckles and pats her shoulder before making his way back down the hall to leave.

 

“See you kids at dinner time!” He announces over his shoulder. Gale and Fawn furrow their eyebrows in confusion before the raven haired girl turns around to face Effie.

 

“What about lunch?”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s fine – no one really knows where he goes at this time.” Effie answers with a silent exhale. Fawn suspects why but says nothing, not wanting to judge the surely tormented victor.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s almost dinner time, now – about half an hour until then. Getting out of the dress was quite the feat, having to ask Effie for help. When she was completely free of her clothes and accessories, face clean from any makeup, Fawn endulged herself in a warm, relaxing bubble bath, taking the opportunity to think. Of course that that didn’t lead to anything good, so instead she busied herself with playing with the bubbles.

 

Lunch was a quiet affair, with a bit of small talk here and there – though it was mostly awkward, since both tributes and Effie didn’t have much in common and, thus, not much to talk about. In the afternoon, Gale and Fawn took a nap, cuddled up against one another in the couch after falling asleep while watching the other reapings. The tributes from one and two could be a threat, as well as the girl from five. She had a cunning look, seemed sly and elusive.

 

Fawn woke up a couple hours ago and started busying herself with sketching birds, wild animals and flowers – she’s always loved to draw and the girl does have a talent for it. Now that she has limitless amounts of paper to draw on, she suspects that she’ll be spending quite a bit of her free time doing so, though she isn’t able to concetrate much – there is at least one avox in each room of the penthouse and that bothers her, especially knowing that they have had their tongues cut off. So much cruelty, she mournfully thinks.

 

So, instead of dwelling on it further, she decides to occupy the garden on the roof – it’s beautiful. The different types of flowers, the clean air... it’s absolutely lovely. Fawn sets the pages down on a stone bench and glances around. The eighteen year old walks about for a while, getting closer to the edge – she can see the entire Capitol from here and the girl feels like she could touch the sky just by reaching up with her hand. And so, she lifts her delicate fingers, reaching forward, higher, higher—

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A slightly familiar voice sounds from behind the girl and she quickly recoils, holding her hand to her heart at the sudden noise, the muscle beating thunderously.

 

“F-Finnick?” Fawn sighs in relief, willing her heart to slow down but as she stares at those sea-green eyes, it doesn’t seem to want to obey. But who could blame her? Not that she’d ever admit it, of course. “You scared me.”

 

“You have to be more attentive if you want to get out of this alive.” He murmurs, sitting on the bench next to her drawings. The victor fleetingly glances at them and he smiles faintly. It takes a bit of time to process before she understands what he means with ‘this’.

 

“... Right.” Fawn nods gingerly, grimacing. “Ah, um—I wasn’t going to attempt anything, if that’s what you were thinking.” She mutters, embarrassed, as the eighteen year old walks back to the bench, picking up her drawings and sitting beside the taller male.

 

“You’d be unconcious before you could even step on the edge.”

 

“What do you mean?” Now, she’s just confused.

 

“There’s a forcefield around the roof. To prevent the tributes from taking their own lives. Not strong enough to kill, but enough to pass out.” Finnick shrugs nonchalantly and Fawn stares at him with perplexity. “As if Snow wasn’t cruel enough, he decided to do this after a tribute jumped off the building. He didn’t want us to stop our suffering.” He finishes bitterly, in a really soft murmur, his hatred for President Snow crystal clear. Fawn glances at the camera next to the access door to the roof warily but since nothing happens in the next few moments, she sighs in relief.

 

“So, are you stalking me now or what?” Fawn attempted to lighten up the mood, quirking one eyebrow up with a teasing smile. Finnick laughs loudly and he looks so boyish, so carefree that it surprises her – the guard he seems to keep up in public is gone and the victor looks... alive. It’s breathtaking.

 

“No, don’t worry. I usually come up here. Not many – actually, no one comes here and I sometimes enjoy the silence.”

 

“The party boy enjoys silence?” She says in disbelief – Fawn doesn’t know why but she’s genuinely curious to find out more about him. The raven haired girl thought he was just a capitol toy, partying every day and every night, immersed in luxury – but there’s definitely something more than meets the eye, something hidden behind the playful smirks, the seductive gazes and the teasing.

 

“Is it that unnatural? Not everything is what it seems, Miss Ivory. Nothing is what it seems.” Finnick answers vaguely – and the guard is up again.

 

“Or maybe, sometimes it’s just what it seems.” Fawn delicately claims, searching for anything, any kind of reaction on those alluring eyes.

 

“Maybe.” Finnick murmurs and the eighteen year old inwardly groans, cursing herself – one step forward and three steps back. “Well, Miss Ivory, it’s been a pleasure talking with you, but I’m afraid it’s dinner time – and I can’t possibly miss that.” The victor stands up and curtly nods his head with a charming, fake smile before walking away, into the building. Fawn sighs and picks up her drawings, holding them tight to her chest.

 

As she makes her way to the penthouse, slowly striding along the hall, Fawn thinks about Finnick, about Gale, about training – but her mind always falls back to Finnick and their conversation. Even during dinner, as Gale tries to talk with her, all she does is nod or hum in agreement. Even Effie and Haymitch look at her with concern and curiosity.

 

_“All men have a few secrets, midget.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Fawn and Finnick meet!!  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)  
> Please do send some feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, guess who's back, aha------  
> Gosh it's been so long. I've had this chapter ready for two years but I forgot about it completely...  
> Anyway! I hope you enjoy!  
> I'd also like to thank everyone who left kudos and commented on previous chapters :) thank you so much! It really makes my day!

The next morning, Fawn is up and about at seven in the morning, taming her unruly waves and curls into a high ponytail. A nervous feeling settles on the pit of her stomach as she glances at herself in the mirror, silver eyes hard and determined. She’ll train until exhaustion if that’s what it takes to protect Gale, to help him survive. At the thought of the boy, a small smile appears on her lips. Gale would certainly survive – he’s a natural at hunting and he covers his tracks well. Fawn’s afraid that he’ll have to be the one to protect her – that’s why she’ll train and train and train. She doesn’t want to be a liability. A burden.

Her thoughts immediately lead her to the other tributes. The career boys and girls would surely be a difficult task – they trained all year for this and they’re good at it. The thought that someone, a _kid_ , is good at killing sends a chill down her spine. She’d have to be stealthy about it, corner them and hope for the best.

A gasp falls from her lips as soon as Fawn realizes what she’s thinking. How can she be thinking of killing them so nonchalantly? Like they were mere, annoying flies, instead of the kids they are. Much like she is. The games haven’t even started and they’re already changing her, slowly but surely. She shakes all those unpleasant thoughts away, concentrating on getting something to eat before the training starts.

The dining room is already buzzing with voices, the excited career tributes being the source of most of the noise. On one of the most faraway tables, she spots Gale and she quickly joins him after grabbing an apple. He’s gulfing down his breakfast like he hasn’t eaten in days and Fawn can’t help but to wince – they didn’t get to eat much back home, except for the occasional rabbit or bird they caught back home and if they were lucky enough, a deer, so it’s only natural they’d take the opportunity to eat more here. As she sits beside the muscular boy, the latter scrunches up his eyebrows and Fawn casts him a questioning look.

“That’s all you’re eating?” He seems concerned, confused that she wouldn’t eat more, but she simply shrugs.

“With how nervous I’m feeling, I’m afraid I’ll throw up my breakfast if I eat more than this.”

“I got your back, don’t worry.” He says as he continues eating. _That’s what I’m nervous about_ , she thinks. She does her best to smile and murmurs a soft “thank you”.

Once they’re done eating, the peacekeepers that were keeping an eye on them all throughout breakfast (as if they’d do anything), lead them to the gym adjacent to the dining room. All the tributes stand in a circle as the trainers addressed them, explaining the different training stations and rules. They all looked so intimidating. Fawn starts feeling even more nervous and chews on her lower lip but ceases once she feels a supportive hand on her forearm. She casts a grateful smile at Gale whom returns it easily.

The tributes disperse once the trainers are done with their small speech and start wandering around the different stations, some of the younger kids immediately dashing towards stations like knots, camouflage and edible plants and insects while the career tributes go straight to the stations with the deadly weapons. The youngest seems to be a dark-skinned girl, whom appears to be no older than twelve. She recognizes her as the small girl from district 11. Her stomach churns and twists at the cruelty of it all. The little girl quietly walks towards the slingshot station and Fawn observes her for a while before shaking her head. She couldn’t afford to form ties to anyone else. As she glances around, she notices Gale glaring at the tall blond from district 1, standing, unmoving, by her side. Fawn brushes her fingertips over the boy’s hand and offers him a small smile before heading over to the knot station. As she sits beside two other kids, they look at her with a fearful gaze, eyes wide. They scramble away to other stations and Fawn sighs. The expert on the station asks if she needs help but she politely declines and passes most of the morning trying different kinds of knots (though failing at most of them). She eventually gets tired and joins Gale at the snares station.

“Still suck at making knots?” He asks with a teasing smile, never looking away from the snare he’s preparing. Fawn scoffs, plopping unceremoniously onto the floor.

“Oh, shut it.”

“And here I was thinking of helping you, but since you’re being so rude…”

“Yeah, like you won’t help me anyway.” She states smugly, a wide grin on her lips. Gale lets out a soft laugh before they fall into a comfortable silence. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the small girl from twelve watching them and she lets out a sigh, which immediately earns a questioning look from her childhood friend.

“She shouldn’t be here.” Fawn whispers as she glances once more at the small kid. The girl’s eyes widen and she walks away quickly. Gale is about to question who she’s talking about but follows Fawn’s gaze and understands right away.

“I know. But there’s nothing we can do.” It’s sad, but it’s the truth. There’s nothing a couple of kids can do and that angers her greatly. They shouldn’t have to do anything, shouldn’t have to be here. They should be having a happy life. It was not fair.

“If you keep doing that, you’ll bleed.” Gale’s voice sounds from her side and she blinks quickly, eyebrows furrowing. There’s a dull ache on her forearms and she’s now aware that she was sinking her nails on her skin. Red, crescent moon-like marks stare back at her.

Before anything else can be said, the trainers tell all the tributes to stop and get lunch – almost all of them quickly scramble to the dining room, the more timid ones following them slowly and silently. With a heavy sigh, Gale pushes himself up before helping Fawn onto her feet.

Lunch is a quiet ordeal – the only noise being the happy chatter of the career tributes, mostly boasting about their skills. It almost sickens the raven haired girl. How could they be talking about it so lightly? A chill runs up her spine and Fawn feels like someone is burning holes onto her back. The teenager feels the urge to glance at the career tributes but once she does, she immediately regrets it. The tall blond – Cato, if she’s not mistaken – is staring back at her with such a heated glare that she’s afraid, for a millisecond, that she’ll burst into flames and become dust. He has 23 other kids to glare at. Why her? Once again, she remembers her mother’s words and shoots, what she hopes to be, an equally intense glare. Fawn feels a gentle squeeze to her elbow, pulling her attention back to her table. Gale’s eyes are also trained on the other boy, eyebrows scrunched up and eyes narrowed but relaxes once he feels Fawn shift.

“Don’t mind them.” He offers with a small smile.

“I know, I know. It’s just...”

“Weird?” He finishes with a knowing smile. At Fawn’s surprised and confused expression, he laughs softly. “What? I’m not blind nor stupid, midget.” Fawn promptly rolls her eyes.

“I know that. You’re too observant sometimes.”

“And you’re not enough.” Gale murmurs to himself but Fawn manages to hear him and it sends her mind into another whirlwind of thoughts. The tone of his voice, that unfamiliar emotion in his eyes yet again, the faint frown marring his handsome features – it all confuses her. It’s not the usual Gale and an itching curiosity scratches at the back of her mind, but she’s too afraid to question him – it’s something new and Fawn doesn’t know if she’s ready for anything new at the moment. Not with her impending death right around the corner. So, she decides to ignore it and pretend she didn’t hear anything at all.

“Well, change of topic. Have you thought of trying to form any alliances?” Fawn nibbles on her lip as she murmurs the question, not wanting anyone beside the two of them to hear it. Gale hesitates before answering in a hushed voice.

“I’m thinking about it… We all know that the career tributes are good allies in the sense they’re some of the strongest ones around but… they could easily stab anyone’s back. Figuratively or not.” His eating pace slows down as he mulls over the question and they carry on in silence throughout the rest of their lunch, both deep in thought.

The first day of training ends with Gale helping Fawn with knots, going over the most useful ones repeatedly. When they finish, they’re told to have dinner at their respective floors and rest. Fawn and Gale follow behind all the other tributes but the raven haired girl notices the small girl from earlier – Rue, if she’s not mistaken –, hesitating and looking back at them. The younger is pulled by her hand by her tribute partner, whom also glances back with a narrowed glare. Fawn’s eyebrows furrow. She shares a look with Gale before their gaze is broken by Haymitch calling and waving them over by the elevator.

“Can you two be any slower?” He drawls tiredly as the two tributes are close enough to hear him. Fawn rolls her eyes as they step inside the elevator.

“We could, but that would annoy you, wouldn’t it? And we wouldn’t want that.” She replies with a sweet smile, earning a mock-warning nudge and a muffled snicker from Gale.

“You really can’t judge a book by its cover, can you?” Haymitch sardonically asks with a hint of a smile on his lips. He receives a small shrug and a teasing smile which finally gets Fawn a genuine smile and a ruffle to her hair.

A shower is in order and after taking off every piece of clothing, Fawn doesn’t waste any time to get under the warm stream of water. She washes herself quickly, only to stand there afterwards, unmoving, for what seems like hours. The warmth relaxes her mind and her body, it reminds her of her mother and friends back home. She doesn’t cry. Not because she doesn’t want to, she does – terribly so –, but Fawn feels like she can’t cry anymore, like it’s all dried up. She only gets out when Gale softly knocks, announcing that they’re all ready to have dinner.

Dinner passes quickly and without much talk, apart from the casual “how did your training go?” and “listen to the experts”. When everything is cleared from their plates and the conversation dies, Haymitch and Effie excuse themselves to their bedrooms.

“I’m going to catch some air.” Fawn states as the avoxes wordlessly clear the table – _as if they could utter a word_ , the teenager thinks sadly, watching them just as silently.

“I was hoping we could talk about strategies and alliances.” Gale lightly chews on his lip and Fawn wonders if her nervous gesture is contagious. She smiles faintly.

“Please, not tonight. I’m…tired and it’s…”

“Too much, too soon?” He finishes for her with a reassuring smile. The raven haired girl casts one back easily.

“Yeah.” She exhales a sigh of relief at how understanding he is.

“Gotcha.” The handsome boy flashes a broad smile and offers her a quick hug before retreating back to his room. Only when she hears the click of the door, does she start walking towards the roof. By the door, there’s a small table where her sketchbook lays and she picks it up, along with her pencil, and continues on her way.

An almost instantaneous feeling of peace and serenity washes over her as she peers at the flowers, lightly brushing the petals with her fingertips. Fawn leans her head down to inhale the scent of the lovely flowers, for a few seconds taking her back to the forest of district twelve. However, thoughts of her mother, Katniss and Prim immediately assault her mind and she jumps away from the flower, narrowing her eyes at it as if it was its fault for the bittersweet memories.

“Didn’t know that those flowers bit.” A whisper sounds by her ear. Fawn shrieks at the warm breath that washes over her skin, swiftly turning around and thrusting her pencil forward. Blue eyes stare back into her own and her cheeks flush with embarrassment at Finnick’s teasing grin, his hand gently gripping the very tip of the pencil. “Woah there, killer. That pencil looks sharp.” Fawn narrows her eyes as the taller boy lets go of her pencil.

“You think you’re very funny, don’t you, O’Dair?”

“I could start a career as a comedian, right?”

“Aren’t you too busy with all your Capitolian girlfriends?” Finnick’s eyes darken and she regrets it as soon as the words leave her mouth. She knows she’s taken it too far. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Forget it. Have fun on the arena when you’re up against your own partner, hm?” His voice is hard, cold and Fawn feels shocked at how indifferent he sounds. “I’ll see you around, Fawn.”

The smaller girl watches him leave, gaze trained on his back as she stands there with a heavy heart, guilt eating away at her soul. Truth is, she doesn’t see him again for the last two days of training whenever she goes to the roof. Fawn goes up there hopeful and returns disappointed, her guilt growing bigger. She takes out her frustrations with the bow and arrow during her training and ignores the curious gazes of the career tributes and avoids Gale’s questioning and worried glances.

Soon, it’s time for the demonstrations and Fawn couldn’t be more nervous. She could barely eat breakfast and not even Gale’s caresses to her back were able to calm her – all thoughts of Finnick and their harsh exchange of words went away as the Capitolians call their names one by one. The career tributes had, of course, scored highly, both from one getting 11 and the ones from two getting 9 and 10.

Fawn’s hands start shaking when the girl from 11 is called up and Gale’s calloused, warm hand covers her own, the muscular boy sending her an encouraging smile which she weakly returns. Gale is the first from 12 to do his demonstration and he gives Fawn a tight hug before going inside. She’s left alone with her thoughts, her shaking hands and her racing heart. One minute closer to her death, and another one, and another one, another one, another one—

“Fawn Ivory.” She doesn’t know where the sound comes from and she honestly doesn’t care. Fawn stands up on shaky legs, almost wobbling her way into the training center. She’s afraid of looking weak – though apparently she doesn’t have to worry. The Capitolians, Head Gamemaker included, are all talking, eating from a big roasted pig, laughing and not paying attention at all. This brings a frown to her features and her hands stop shaking. The freaking nerve— _oh, I’ll show them_.

She grabs a flask of alcohol and a piece of cloth, dipping the fabric on the flammable liquid.

_I’ll show them what fear is._

Fawn takes an arrow and rolls the cloth right beneath the tip.

_Show them what it’s like to feel weak._

With two pieces of wood, though it takes a bit, she creates friction and watches as small wisps of fire lap at the wood and she grins. Fawn swiftly lights the cloth on fire and grabs a bow, though not before taking the mockingjay pin from her pocket and lightly kissing it—thinking of her mom, Katniss, Prim, Gale.

_I’ll show them._

Fawn aims and shoots. For a few seconds, it’s like everything is in slow motion. The arrow soars through the training center and Fawn follows its movement with a determined gaze, exhaling slowly as it lodges itself right in the middle of the pig. Hysteric screams from the few females in there ensue and Crane’s eyes widen—he’d been reaching for a piece of meat and the arrow barely missed his hand. Fawn smirks as they all turn to look at her petite figure, some incredulous, some outraged—but all equally afraid. Maybe she’s taken it too far (again) and they’ll kill her and tell everyone it was a training accident. But at the terrified glints in their eyes, she finds that it was worth it. Fawn doesn’t care and it makes her feel _powerful_.

Fawn drops the curved bow and greets the Capitolians dramatically, joining her thumb and pinky and placing her hand over her heart. She swiftly leaves the training center, not waiting around to hear her score. The raven-haired girl makes a beeline for the elevator and once the doors slide shut, she finally lets out the breath she’s been holding, her back hitting the wall as she supports herself on it, not being able to stand anymore. The shaking is back and her trembling hands reach up to her face, covering her damp skin, little beads of sweat trickling down her face. Her body slides down the elevator’s wall and she sits down, taking deep breaths as she tries to not hyperventilate. Her eyes close and Fawn doesn’t care when the elevator starts moving, even though she didn’t press any button. Doesn’t care when the doors open and someone steps in. She just doesn’t care.

The petite girl flinches when warm hands take her own, only then noticing the pain in her forearms. Red crescent moon-like marks are visible once more, some bleeding, some not. Blue eyes stare back into her own once again when she dares to open them. There’s concern in those eyes and she really can’t fandom why. But it’s Finnick and he suffers too. He’s cried too, right? He understands, doesn’t he? It’s with those thoughts that she leans against his chest and _cries_ , letting out tears she thought were all dried up. Strong arms wrap around her trembling body and Finnick brings her close to his own, chin resting on top of her raven hair.

The older boy murmurs what she thinks are comforting words, but she can’t really concentrate on what he’s saying, so she focuses on the sound of his voice instead. It’s smooth and low, guttural and his chest rumbles whenever he speaks. It seems like it’s a lullaby and Fawn is so tired. So worn down. The raven-haired girl slowly succumbs to the darkness tugging at her mind, lulled by Finnick’s voice and his steady breathing and she dreams of a calm ocean, its gentle waves lightly lapping at the shore, of singing mermaids with eyes as blue and bright as the ocean on a clear, sunny day.

* * *

A gentle breeze caresses ivory skin, rustles the light blanket that covers the milky expanse of flesh. The body awakens but the mind stays dormant for a couple seconds more as the eyes adjust to the brightness of the room. Fawn takes a full minute to realize that she’s back to her apartment, to her floor. Fingertips graze along the soft sheets of the mattress and for a full minute, she lets herself relax and her mind drift to pleasant memories. Fawn knows that within the next few days those memories will vanish, along with her body. She’ll be the one turning into a memory instead.

With a long, suffering sigh, Fawn crawls out of bed, still in a daze, vaguely remembering blue eyes and a soft lullaby. It’s as she stares at the mirror of the bathroom, fingers combing through raven curls, that it downs upon her. Today marks the beginning of the end. Of everything – her sanity and, most probably, her life. God forbid that she lets Gale die instead of herself. She’d protect him to the end, even if it meant her demise.

Fawn doesn’t even bother to think about the live interview that is going to take place before the Games begin, can’t think of more dresses and prepping, of feigning courage and hiding her fear. She’s terrified and doesn’t know if she’ll be able to keep her composure.

Her reverie is broken by a soft knock on her door. Fawn expects Gale to be on the other side, saying that she should eat something substantial before everything begins, but she finds Haymitch instead, an almost apologetic look on his features.

“Last minute advices?” Fawn smiles faintly and steps aside to let the victor step inside. His steps are slightly sluggish, heavy, as if he’s the one that’s going to step inside the arena. She figures that watching his own tributes eminent death must be just as hard as being inside that deadly cage.

“Something like that.” Comes the simple answer as the bed creaks under his weight. Fawn sits beside him, doing her best to not show her fear and nervousness. A comforting hand rests on her shoulder and she’s sure that her mentor saw right through her. Fawn wonders if the others will be able to do that as well and once again fears for her life.

“Look, I—I can’t tell you that everything is going to be alright, because that would be a lie. Most may think I don’t care, that I’m merely a drunk, lost man, but I do.” He pauses and coughs awkwardly. Even after all these years, he must not be used to pep talks and comforting words. “You’re strong, kid. I know it, I’ve seen it. Both of you are. I believe in you two and in your strength and will to stay alive.” Fawn can only smile.

“Alright, uh—try to avoid the bloodbath and the Cornucopia at the beginning. If no one camps there, return later and get what you need. If not, use whatever you have around you. I’m sure you’ll take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, Haymitch. Really, thank you.” Her nervousness goes down a notch and the small spark of hope that’s deep inside her heart lightens, flowing through her veins with new found courage. Haymitch clears his throat and stands up.

“Okay. Go eat and I’ll see you later at the interview.” He starts towards the door but stops suddenly. “Oh! I don’t know what you did, but nice score at the demonstration. Been a while since any tribute from district twelve got anything above nine points.”

A new fear settles on her heart—after what she’d done, she got a score greater than nine? At the time, she didn’t think of the consequences but now… it just seems wrong and screams danger, and her stomach churns. She just knows that the Head Gamemaker is going to retaliate and it won’t be good at all.

She files those feelings and thoughts for later and concentrates on getting dressed and meeting Gale for breakfast, even though most of her appetite is gone. Said boy emerges from his room almost at the same time as she leaves hers and for a fleeting moment there’s a spark of foreboding on his brown eyes. Gale’s quick to hide it behind a mask of courage and kindness as he approaches the smaller girl with an easy smile.

“Ready for more prepping and playing doll?” She chuckles, shaking her head slowly – only him to make her laugh and feel better at a time like this. Her stomach quietly growls with hunger.

“I was born ready.” Fawn jokes, eliciting a small laugh from the taller male. They join hands, like they’ve done so many times before, when everything was much simpler, and walk towards the cafeteria of the building. Haymitch and Effie must have already eaten because she doesn’t see them anywhere. They take advantage of the food offered this time and eat as much as they can without feeling bloated and sluggish. There’s a silent agreement that they have to be well fed for what’s to come.

Throughout breakfast, they receive nasty glares and sneers from the career tributes but they’re promptly ignored by Fawn and Gale, who honestly are too worried to really pay them any attention.

The prepping for the interview is quicker than the one for the chariot ride. Cinna is silent throughout the whole process and it slightly scares her. His eyes are dark and hard, lips tightly pressed as he adjusts Fawn’s dress. It’s a gorgeous black dress – mid-thigh length, with long, thin and puffy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. It’s tight at the waist and fits her just right. Small, red beads decorate the bottom of the dress, making it look like it’s slowly burning, gentle and warm. The cloth flows whenever she moves and the texture is smooth, silky as her fingertips brush along the fabric. It’s beautiful beyond words. Fawn tells Cinna exactly that and the hardness on his eyes soften, the darkness in them clears.

“Thank you. It’s especially designed for you, Fawn. Tell you what—” He smiles mischievously, like he’s going to tell a big secret. “When you feel ready, snap your fingers.” She’s more than confused.

“Snap my fingers?”

“Snap your fingers.” Cinna winks before continuing the final touches. A bit of blush here, a smidge of eye shadow there and she’s done. Her curly hair is pulled up high in a tight, neat bun, a few strands of hair loose and framing her face. Fawn’s once again mesmerized at Cinna’s work – she normally doesn’t care much about how she looks but it seems like she came out of a magazine, like the models on the shiny pages she found in the room of the Capitolian apartment. Yet simpler, not as ostentatious. A natural kind of beauty.

“Gorgeous, my dear! We did an amazing job, didn’t we, Cinna?” The lighter haired woman says, a wide smile on her lips.

“Indeed.” He murmurs, a satisfied smile adorning his own pair. “Now go,” he told her as he gently pushed her towards the direction of the stage, where Gale awaited, along with the host and audience. “Go and shine, little flame.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? Yay or nay?  
> Please do send some feedback!  
> Thank you :)


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